


promptstuck #1

by incendiarydissension



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ??????????????????????/i guess i'm probably bad at making things sad though, F/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incendiarydissension/pseuds/incendiarydissension
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Here's your prompt: Your otp in a warzone, being shot at and one gets hit. Ready? GO."<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	promptstuck #1

**Author's Note:**

> this was for a writing prompt from fangirl411 on Tumblr  
> *edit* there were hELLA errors in here before so sorry about that. fixed spelling and other things that were bothering me.

Your name is Sollux Captor, and you are afraid for your life.  
Guns are nothing new to you. You’ve seen almost every kind of pistol, rifle and machine gun out there. But these are new. These are different.  
The man behind the small, unassuming handgun is grinning almost politely as he eradicates each opponent. But with each movement of his index finger, one more ally is taken down in the blaze of white-hot fire that comes from the weapon he wields. The screams of the fallen ring across the village that has become a battlefield. Thousands have died, and thousands more will before this battle is over. And you and she crouch behind a building, breathing heavily and unable to save any of them.  
"Sollux." Her words are barely a breath in your ear, but even through the awful noise, each one rings.  
"We have to do something."  
"I can’t," you tell her. "We’re the last line of defense. We have to stay here and protect the civilians."  
She stares at you. “These are our teammates!”  
"Okay, but we’re out of ammo, and it’s suicide to try and get more. I have one bullet left, Aradia. And we can’t, anyway- have you forgotten about protecting the innocent?”  
"Why?" she whispers, the frustration clear in each syllable, and you draw back to stare at her. Her eyebrows are drawn together and her lips are pursed, and of course she knows why- is she an idiot? But you sigh, lean your head against the bricks that have become your shelter, and nod.  
"Nepeta’s got supplies."  
Aradia nods. Your most reliable pilot has a plane stocked full of weapons, bullets, and less violent supplies- bandages and the like. You’ve lost your only means of communication, though- a bullet is buried thick in the circuitry, and fixing it would take time and silence, neither of which are in abundance.  
"Eridan!" you hiss across the wall.  
Your teammate, who is staring around the other side of your shelter, turns and silently moves over to you. Your gaze slides down to his hands. One is clutching a radio.  
"We need you to call Nepeta. We’re out of everything," you mutter to him. He nods, eyes widened, and presses a button on the radio.  
"Hey, Nep? Yeah, we need a box. Uhm. What kind of box? Well…"  
He glances at you helplessly, and you gesture frantically at him to be quiet. You should have remembered that he’s terrible at whispering.  
He presses the button again. “Well… he doesn’t know. Maybe you should just-“  
You snatch the radio from him before he can blow all of your cover and hiss frantically, “Just give us some grenades or something!”  
"… can’t hear you. Repeat that." Nepeta’s voice crackles and wavers, and before you can yell at her, the sound goes dead.  
You stare unbelievingly at the radio before clenching it furiously in your fist, resisting the urge to smash it against the wall.  
"It’s broken. The piece of shit is broken." You stare at Eridan, who starts backing away.  
"Sollux, calm down," Aradia tells you, putting a hand on your arm. You shrug it off, steaming. Somebody screams behind you, and you jump as the ground shakes.  
"People are dying… we can’t do anything about it. And you want me to calm down?" you say.  
"This isn’t something you can have an episode about, Sollux! You have to keep your head!"  
She’s right, she’s always right, but your blood is boiling and there’s nothing you can do to vent your frustration. Aradia and Eridan exchange glances and your eyes flicker between them as you try to convince yourself that this is nothing. Nothing to worry about. What happened to the line of defense? What happened to the civilians? That’s right, Sollux. You’re the one to protect them.  
But how can you do that without supplies?  
"Okay, okay. Shhhhh." Aradia puts a finger to her lips. "I can get Vriska. She always carries extra bullets with her. You just stay here. I’ve got this."  
And before you can protest, she slips away. First checking to make sure nobody’s looking, she slides behind a cluster of bushes, eyes darting, and crouches there. You want to go after her, protect her, something, but Eridan grips your arm and he’s way too strong for his own good. After several attempts at wrenching your wrist away, you give up and both of you watch with bated breath as she begins crawling towards the next cover.  
All at once you see an enemy soldier. Even though they’ve all had the same ridiculous haircut and the same uniform, this one is distinctive for the pair of triangular glasses he wears. What does he plan to do? Stab someone with his eyewear? And what’s that he’s holding- a sword? Who does think douchbag think he is?  
Those thoughts slip from your mind as behind the dark shades, his eyes slide from the dead body that he’s stepping over, to his accomplice with the gun, to Aradia’s thin form, making its way across the path to thick foliage.  
You snatch your gun up from your hip and point it at him with no regard for the complete shortage of ammunition. The fate of one human’s life rests in your hands.  
Before you can do anything drastic, Eridan grabs your arm and you remove your finger from the trigger, relaxing your shoulders. Of course she’s got this. She’s a trained soldier, a fighter- what does this dude with the anime glasses have in comparison?  
Sure enough, as he approaches her softly, she glances back smoothly and disappears behind the tree, and you imagine her grabbing her handgun, ready for a fight. The soldier grips his sword tightly and lunges for the tree.  
Before he can get there, Aradia comes charging out, throwing herself at his legs. He drops his sword, taking one step back before he’s bowled over by five feet of pure warrior.  
At first, she has the advantage of surprise as well as a low center of gravity, and he finds himself on the ground before he can get his sword back. He recovers before Aradia can do anything, even point her empty gun at him in a bluff, and he dives at her. He’s tall, muscled, but more than anything, fast. You can’t see much. They must be 50 meters away by now, but you catch a glimpse of her distinctive red ponytail in the air before he grabs her and holds her down in a choking grip.  
As soon as you feel Eridan’s hand release you, you point the barrel of the gun at them. You can’t let him win. You can’t let him kill her.  
But…  
Through the viewfinder, their grappling bodies appear the same, green blending with green. You can just catch a glimpse of freckled skin and orange hair. That must be the enemy soldier. Then there’s her bright hair and tan skin. The two roll over and over, each trying to gain the advantage over the other.  
"Sol, you have to take the shot," he says faintly behind you. You grit your teeth. This isn’t James Bond. She could die.  
But the soldier’s grabbed his sword from the dusty ground, and suddenly the sharp blade doesn’t seem comical at all. Now it’s a real weapon, one that can slit her throat before she can call out for help. Your hands tremble around the warmth of your gun.  
"Sollux!" Eridan yells.  
And you take the shot.  
The blast is deafening, and you swear they both turn to look at you even though the sound shouldn’t be indistinguishable from the nightmare going on around you. Neither of them can blink before the blast knockes them over, the soldier sprawling out limply several feet behind her. Holding your breath, you watch motionlessly.  
For a long time, nothing seems to move beyond the inconsequential fighting of the troops several hundred meters away. Then, suddenly, somebody moves. You watch as the enemy soldier sits, shaking his head. He stands up, stares down at the unmoving figure. Then he disappears into the bushes.  
Somebody shouts behind you, and the sounds of battle become muted. You clap your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. The gun falls to your side. There’s an intake of breath from behind you before you’re running, nearly tripping. It takes too long to get to her side. The place where the bullet lodged itself in her head is clear, encircled with an almost fragile trail of red.   
"Aradia," you say dumbly, unable to form words that better describe what’s running through your head.  
Because in the end, it wasn’t the war that took her.  
It was you.

**Author's Note:**

> it ended up getting pretty long, but I'm relatively satisfied with it. I hope it wasn't overdramatic or overly stoic (bad word choice much??) but this is the first emotion-y thing I've written in... probably forever.  
> I'm off to bed g'night lovelies


End file.
